When Scottish Eyes Are Reading About Dublin
I’m going to this here Dublin place soon and I thought I’d do a bit of reading about it so’s I’d get more out of what’ll be just a short visit. It’s a funny old place, is what I’ve been finding out. I’ll tell you what I’ve discovered and, if I have it wrong, please do feel free to correct me, you Irishers and non-Irishers alike.
First of all, it’s a fair city and all the girls are very pretty. And there are streets both broad and narrow. And molluscs are sold.
Now, I knew about the Pale and stuff from that oft-used expression about kicking the bucket (ho!), but what I hadn’t realized is just how isolated and distinct Dublin was, or at least used to be, from the rest of Ireland. From Nuala O’Faolian’s book “Are You Somebody? The Accidental Memoir Of A Dublin Woman”, Bloom’s Literary Guide To Dublin, Lonely Planet’s Dublin and Maeve Brennan’s short story collection, “The Springs of Affection.” I’ve learnt that Dubliners never spoke Irish, the people were mainly descended from the Anglo-Irish even before Cromwellian times, and that until mid-last century much of Dublin hadn’t emerged from Victorian squalor.
The Maeve Brennan stories are less stories and more little three or four page vignettes from her memory but she makes each one shine like a jewel and they’ve stayed with me this past month since I’ve read them. Nuala O’ Faolian’s memoir is an amazing look at a Dublin woman and journalist bucking convention and as such is a fascinating look at both the old and new Dubliners across a period of immense outward change; and the psychological remove of Dublin from the rest of Ireland, about which she, as a typical Dubliner, knew little. It also examines the Dublin literary scene in the last century, the religious scene, and the many different bar scenes which vary depending on how dependent you had become.
I’ve read the Dublin writers everyone has, Swift, Roddy Doyle etc, but what I was looking for was writing about Dublin itself, or how Dublin relates to the rest of Ireland, hence the non-fiction and memoirs above. I’m really looking for fiction though because it can often tell you more about reality than merely relating real things can.
At the moment I’m nearly finished Dublin Noir, a short story collection from crime-fiction authors both Irish and non-Irish. All the stories are contemporary Celtic Tiger tales. High and low society mix (or don’t) and all the energy around the new Dublin really crackles through. Glasgow is good mix of the cultured and affluent with and the terrifyingly violent underclass, the hard-boiled characters and hard-as-nails police, and is a terrific city for noir. Even in broad day-light Glasgow thrums with something between commerce and menace, and I reckon Dublin might have that same vibe, or more so. Is that right, Irishers?
Some stories are streets better than others but mostly it’s been a good, frequently disturbing, and sometimes funny read and I feel I’m getting a good sense of modern Dublin: what’s not settling easily; what is; what’s roaring ahead; what’s not able to keep up. In caricature to a degree obviously – it is noir – but the ear for language seems dead on and a lot of the modern city is meticulously described. I’m going to be interested to see how much of it I recognise. Of course you can feel you’re getting a good sense of something all you want, but nothing beats the seeing for yourself and its all really whetted my appetite to try the city on and see how it feels.
Some stories in this collection really bludgeon you with the noir or the Tiger which is OK but I think the couple that combine the two the best also happen to work the best though for more than just that reason. One is “Taking On PJ”. I can’t remember the name of the other just at the moment.
There are lots of heavy footsteps on stairs; a lot of mini-bar drinks consumed in luxurious modern hotel rooms; a lot of socket-poppingly creative violence; stock Dublin characters are both lionised and debunked; there is even a black cat in an alleyway in one story; the whole book is swollen and soggy with Jamesons, Guinness, blood, rain and poitin; old IRA alliances are hinted at; there’s plenty of banking fraud; plenty of high heels on cobblestones; plenty of either unpleasant or gullible Americans; a lot of beauty and ugliness rubbing up against each other; luxury and seediness. Gangland Dublin is well represented as are the non-Dublin Irish; Eastern Europeans figure; it all feels like it was written yesterday; and everyone, everyone is on the make.
Next up after Dublin Noir will be The Dubliners which I read in my teens, and then Ulysses, which I skimmed in my teens too. Loosely. Very. I was too young and not equal to it. I was wasting my time, out of my depth, and felt like I was trying to read through some mystifying mist with smashed, googly glasses on. But I knew Joyce was “important” so, in my early twenties, I had a stab at Finnegans Wake – I mean the song was straightforward enough, right? It scared the beJoyceus out of me and I haven’t been near him since.
I don’t know if any of you Irishers who come by these parts have read any of those books and can say if they give any kind of an accurate picture at all. Are there other books I shouldn’t miss before visiting?
Anyway, my spanking new passport arrived today and all my travel arrangements are set so it’s all a go-go. I can’t wait to see the place for myself.
February 4th, 2008 at 10:16 pm
’tis best to come and see for yourself. For each and every one of us will have a different impression of the place. Some think, dump and other unkind words. While those who had time in one or other college may well think in terms of the Hope diamond.
On the history bit of your post, the anglo-irish would not thank you for including them before Cromwell, nor would the Normans. Who never thought of themselves as Irish.
But if you merge Edinburgh with Glasgow, the city has the good and bad of both with a tilt to Edinburgh.
And Welcome. Oh, Jamesons is Cork.
February 4th, 2008 at 10:22 pm
Ah, now you remind of the very first comment on my blog, by an Irishman called ‘Fist’, whose own blog was entirely devoted to the writings of Joyce. He had a particular obsession with Finnegans Wake.
Heaven knows what happened to Fist, because he’s been missing for a couple of years. Maybe you’ll find him for us, Sam.
http://finnegansfisted.blogspot.com/
In Dublins’s fair city
Where the blogs are so pithy
I first set my eyes on young Fisty Malone
He actually lived in London come to think of it.
February 4th, 2008 at 11:40 pm
No help from me, alas, Lass. I’ve never been there, though I wish to spend some time on the Emerald Isle. I’m waiting for you to scout out the best bits so that I can plan my trip.
Cheers.
February 4th, 2008 at 11:58 pm
None of those books will tell you much, though you really should persevere with Ulysses, which is a world in itself.
Dublin today is a smug bubble, unconnected to the rest of the country and largely unaware that Ireland exists (except for our tax euros, of course). Due to years of planning corruption, Dublin has sprawled to an area larger than Los Angeles, but with only a tenth of the population, and a very poor public transport system. Most of our public money goes to providing infrastructure for the bubble leaving little for the rest of the country, except the motorways which all radiate, of course, from Dublin.
The new Dubliners are deeply insecure and work hard on hiding their Irishness by cultivating an appalling Mid-Atlantic accent that’s now heard everywhere on tv and radio, and has escaped to infect much of our youth outside the bubble. Having said that, the Dublin accent was always a sort of English clone anyway, due, as you said, to centuries of British garrisoning. Most Dubliners are, in fact, British, or would prefer to be.
Vulgarity is the norm today, and any aspiring Dub will have at least one small shelf in their bijou residence that has some Finnish designer’s name on it and cost ?800. However, in spite of appearances, nobody can pronounce tagliatelle properly or tell the difference between decent wine and wallpaper stripper.
Our national broadcaster directs its programming exclusively towards Dublin, and employs only close friends who live within a hundred yards of each other in a small pocket on the Southside of the city. There’s one exception: if you’re from another country, you’ll have no problem getting a job on the telly, because you’re exotic, and Radio Dublin likes that better than it likes your average Irish muck-savage.
Restaurants will cost you the price of a hip replacement. A pint will cost you as much as a small motor-bike.
February 5th, 2008 at 12:06 am
I thnk I’ll recuse myself Sam. Because it’s my town and I care too much.
Oh, and because I’ve not seen as much of it as I would have liked over the last 9 years.
I have read most of what you’ve listed though, and much more besides but I’m not sure I could recommend any that address the relationship of Dublin to the rest of the country. And I prefer to talk about such things rather than write. Talk to you soon. Oh, and if you don’t hear from me after you send something – just drop a comment (I don’t trust my email)
February 5th, 2008 at 3:45 am
I’ve never ready any Joyce…it’s been a personal choice, mainly because I’m afraid he’s the Irish version William Faulkner. Call it a dark premonition.
Feel free to tell me I’m fucking crazy, though…I’d love to know that Faulkner was the only one of his kind. The rambling fool.
February 5th, 2008 at 8:34 am
I don’t despise it quite as much as Bock, but I agree with most of what he says, in particular that it is blatantly favoured by the State and reaps, no, is awarded the lion’s share on all accounts. And don’t get me started on the prices!
Sorting out the North was easy – the Dublin-country divide will never heal. For something to heal, it has to have been once whole and that was never the case.
On accents: There are many. The original, central one is a high pitched squeal, common of many port towns globally. e.g. Liverpool; New York. The something-ologists attribute this to the need to be heard above the roar of the onshore winds. Radiating out from there the accent flattens, but only slightly. The faux accent Bock mentions is, as he says, part mid-Atlantic, but in the wealthier suburbs it is also a poor attempt at mimicking Elizabeth Windsor. (Read Ross O’Carroll-Kelly … but not too much – it will hurt)
No, I could never love the place like Eola?. I cannot even bring myself to like it. Maybe I am like Bock after all. Dublin, (with apologies to the Kaiser Chiefs) everyday I love you less and less.
Finally. A word of advice: Never, ever, ever, ever fall into the trap the Tank Man above did and call Ireland the Emerald Isle. The cringe-ometer will go off the scale.
February 5th, 2008 at 9:39 am
I’m from the country and I bloomin’ love Dublin!
It’s a terrific city, wildly interesting, quite camply cosmopolitan ( the range of accents and wanna be OCs are hilarious I think).
There are terrific restaurants, good bars, museums, theatres, cinemas, beautiful parks, public transport is pretty decent where I live and you know what? It’s not perfect but fuck it, no where is. It’s a capital city, you get the good the bad and the ugly, it can be violent and indifferent. It heaves with vulgarity, sure, why wouldn’t it, we’re not used to having money, of course we’re going to be flash with the cash when we have it. Trust me, that’s not just the city either.
But Dublin can also be warm, inviting and vibrant. You can spend a terrific Sunday afternoon, browsing the markets for second hand books in Blackrock before going for a bite with pals in Odessa, or spend a Saturday morning walking along the beach on Dollymount Strand, watching the kids with their kites, wondering if Country Gay’s dog really LIKES the taste of salt water. Head down Camden street having a bit of craic with the street traders there while you buy your fruit for the week, mad some of them. Catch a 15 A back towards Ternure, Bushy Park on a weekend morning is quite a community, you can watch amateur football matches, tag rugby, meet up with the jogging groups, coo over cute pups and a matter with some of the ould lads there who seem to know everyone.
Or catch a football match on the big screen over in a pub Parnell Street, you and half of Africa, eating food out of styrofoam boxes, cutlery? Why would you need that?
There are lots of things to do. Lots of things to see, lots of places to go.
It’s a city, it’s filled with options. You can make a good life for yourself here. If you look for the negative you’ll find it. If you seek out the good you’ll find that too.
February 5th, 2008 at 11:09 am
You’ll have a grand time whatever you read… and will come back to write a masterpiece of your own!
February 5th, 2008 at 1:11 pm
Some literature… Flann O’Brien’s At Swim Two Birds… Maura Laverty’s Tolka Row or Liffey Lane, early Val Mulkerns for the Dublin middle class in the 1950s, Brian Cleeve’s The Far Hills for louche Dublin in the 1950s… Neil Jordan’s The Past… Paul Durcan’s Christmas Day… Joe O’Connor’s story collection True Believers… Hugo Hamilton’s The Speckled People… Philip Casey’s The Fabulists… and of course Messrs Joyce and Beckett… to name but a few, and I’m not really up to date on more recent popular fiction much of which may be set in Dublin but written as though it might be anywhere in the Anglo American world.
I disagree with much of what Bock says…. there are few enough real ‘Dubs’ whose families are in Dublin for generations. Rather, like any capital city, it has been drawing in people from the rest of the country and, in recent times, from overseas.
On balance, the greater Dublin economy contributes more resources to the country as a whole than it uses up. The years of bad planning coupled with recent population pressures on the city have resulted in serious infrastructure problems – transport, education, healthcare and social housing – which are arguably worse in Dublin than they are elsewhere in the country.
Go for a walk up Ticknock and see the city spread out below you. Walk up ‘the flags’ from Dalkey to Killiney hill and look out over Killiney Bay. Walk ‘into eternity’ along Sandymount Strand. Look for the deer in Phoenix Park. Stroll from the Dodder basin either up the river or the Grand Canal. And maybe the most unique thing you can do is visit Marsh’s Library for a browse among the vellum books. And there’s a pub I used to frequent which may still be the same, unfashionable and untouched by modernity. Therefore I am not naming it, publicly!
February 5th, 2008 at 4:47 pm
Sam looks like you got it worked out already. Huge credit to you for the research, you know more about the kip then I do and I was born there. (In the Rotunda hospital in the heart of the Pale, 1959, largish baby).
Fuck it people are the same where ever you go, I’m with FMC here, if you look for good stuff, you’ll find it.
A recommendation:
Pretend you?re significant in Toners on Baggot Street, Paddy Kavanagh territory.
What not to do:
Don’t under any circumstances jump into the canal at Baggot Street Bridge, no matter how inviting it looks @ 1.00 a.m.
February 5th, 2008 at 5:09 pm
I was in Dublin over a score of years ago and was astonished to see child beggars. There was a tough looking little girl with an urchin brother and I gave her some money and strict instruction as to what to do with it. MTL said she looked as if she thought I was a lunatic.
I love Ulysses as it reminded me of my Irish Gran who was a cross between a Duchess and a fish-wife.
I love the south west and the west coast. Maybe you should see the Giant’s Causeway before it disappears. Don’t expect too much and you won’t be disappointed. And no-one seems to rise before noon.
February 5th, 2008 at 5:55 pm
Loads of varied opinions, thanks! If a city can stir such strong feeling either way, it must be worth seeing, I reckon.
I love cities – ooh wait up, doorbell, back in a jiffy
February 5th, 2008 at 6:05 pm
Dublin is a gem, Sam. It has the same problems as any big city, just as FMC says, but it’s vibrant and buzzing with stuff to do and it’s so easy to get around. I would add Beckett’s story collection “More Pricks than Kicks” to your reading list about Dublin and its environs. Also, “At Swim, Two Boys” by Jamie O’Neill, “A Close Shave with the Devil: Stories of Dublin” by Ena May and Mary Morrissy’s collection “A Lazy Eye.”
February 5th, 2008 at 6:33 pm
I have never lived in Dublin, and if you sand down Bocks rant a little much is true, (no idea about the Finnish furniture, non of my friends have any!). However I get there quite a bit, and several years ago, my job took my to Dublin for two weeks. It was not a normal Dubliner’s life, as I had an apartment right in the city center. Never the less, I loved it. The pubs are great, the coffee is generally excellent, food in Ireland is much improved, but very expensive, but I was on an expense account, so I didn’t care! Dublin is a great walking* town, and it buzzes in a way that no American city outside NY and SF does. As a tourist many of its problems, traffic sprawl , planning corruption won’t affect you. The prices will shock you though.
Dermot Bolgers novel Night Shift is a great, (and somewhat depressing) book about Dublin just before the Celtic Tiger came a hunting.
* Seems famous people like it too, in one afternoon I saw Sinead O’Conor, Micheal Stipe, Gabriel Byrne and Colm Meany.
February 5th, 2008 at 10:00 pm
(rubs hands together greedily)
Ooooh. More Irish stuff to read! I go through phases – Angela’s Ashes led to Maeve Binchy’s series of stories then Rosamund Pilcher and Robin Pilcher (I know, I know Scotland and England too) and I’ve been waiting for more.
Your post, plus the recommendations of your readers gives me quite a bit to look forward to.
February 5th, 2008 at 10:33 pm
I can pronounce ‘tagliatelle’.
Just saying.
February 6th, 2008 at 10:57 am
The Dubliners is great and you can even have a meal in the place where “the Dead” was set when you are here – make sure to do the literary pub crawl and avoid all books with pink covers.
February 6th, 2008 at 3:38 pm
Jonathan Swift was a Dubliner and a wonderful satirist. Lord knows what he would have made at Bock’s attempts.
Dublin is a flawed place, like every other city on the land, but if you have the right company (and I’m sure you will) you will have a good time.
Now, I’m off back to my bubble to learn the words to God Save the Queen. Sorry, I mean ‘Gawd saaave ther Queeeeen. We’ll be rayt baaaack after this break’.
February 6th, 2008 at 4:30 pm
Wow! You really have been putting in some effort, well done girl. I reckon with FMC to guide you you won’t go far wrong. Her comments have made me want to hop on the next plane. And although I’ve never been to Dublin I ‘m convinced she’s right about it’s fabulousness.
For a way into Joyce I highly recommend Dubliners, though I expect it won’t provide a (psychological) map of modern Dublin any more than Our Mutual Friend would provide such a map of modern London. Still, it will probably provide some insight into the the history of Dublinness and is very very good.
I can already feel you having a great time.
February 6th, 2008 at 4:53 pm
That was a long trip to the doorbell…. I reckon someone’s kidnapped our Sam…
February 6th, 2008 at 6:11 pm
Thanks all, Irishers and non-Irishers. Your varied opinions are fascinating and it is valuable to hear them all. It seems to me, Dublin might be like one of the Galapagos islands – largely cut off from both Britain and Ireland for the longest time – and I want to see what strange-beaked creatures have evolved there; how particular is Dublin’s own particular flavour.
From reading the blogs I’d realised there’s this deep and angry Dublin/Country divide which I’d never realised existed. I’m your cousin to the North. Gaeltacht Scotland and the Irish have as much in common as we don’t – arguably more in common than we do with Eastern Scotland – but since I’ve been reading Irish blogs I’ve realised I really know bugger all about you – much like it sometimes is with your real cousins: you see them at weddings and funerals, hear about what they’re up to from your folks, but don’t really know each other. My cousin Isla recently came to stay and it was the first time I’d got to know her properly as an adult. This learning about Ireland feels the same to me.
It is interesting to hear Sneezy say that sorting out the North was easier than resolving Dublin/country tensions. As for the administrative inequities with the country, they suck, but I’m well used to them, being from the forgotten Hebrides. I remember in Secondary school huddling 3 to a book with our coats on in maths, while a hole in the corner of the portacabin – put up “temporarily” when my mother was in school – blew freezing wind round our legs. We went on sports trips and things to mainland schools and just couldn’t believe the sports facilities and computers and actually solid buildings they had. It is in our nature up there to moan and complain and we did, but you know what? We had the highest rate of university placement than any school in the UK. We were helluva motivated to get outta dere, for there was nothing to make a living at, and our culture has always put a premium on education as long as we don’t go showing off about it. (You can know stuff, you just can’t talk about it.) But it goes to show that throwing money at education is not necessarily what garners success. It sure as surety wasn’t with us. Now, a good number of my professional friends are choosing to resettle there to bring up their own families – bucking the brain-drain trend that had been going on. So, Dublin sucking or not sucking revenue from the rest of the country, while unfair certainly, is not, in itself, enough to put me off it.
I’m inclined to go with those who’ve said it has to be experienced for yourself. Even if it is a “bubble”, that fascinates me too – what’s it like in this old and storied bubble-city, what’s it like out? I’m well used to ugliness and horrible accents having lived, studied and done menial work in Glasgow for 5 years – that doesn’t bother me, and it’s not all grim. Some of the funniest people I met in my life were these Glasgow wifeys i worked with, who worked 3 jobs in a day, cleaning up after other people mostly, and took their money home for their husband to drink and their kids to spend on designer trainers. There are hundreds of Billy Connollys in Glasgow – working class men and women – sharp as tacks and the funniest people on the planet. The whole city and vibe is completely unlike any other scottish city.
I’m easy to please as a traveller. There aren’t too many places I’ve been to that haven’t been interesting to me in one way or another, except for Middlesborough. I love cities, I’m dying to see the Dublin I saw in that film about the songwriter and the Czech girl – can’t remember the name. I don’t mind gaudiness and excess either – it’s just an expression of part of human nature after all and I like to see individual cities takes on gaudiness (what tempers it, what kinds of excess are tolerated, what aren’t). All sorts of people are rubbing along together in a city and tripping over each other trying to make their way. There are a million stories and hopes and dreams colliding every day.
Both the country and the city hold equal appeal for me, in any country. I want to explore the whole of Ireland one day – especially Limerick after Bock’s terrific pictures; that city looks very flavourful itself – but this trip I only have time to visit Dublin. I love to try and suck out as much as I can from new places and, before the kids, the Problem Hubby and I travelled a lot. Since then all our trips have necessarily been trips home to Lewis and Minnesota which is fine but I’m itching to get out on my own and explore for a few days with no bums/noses to wipe, nobody to feed, clothe, soothe or answer to, no responsibilities to anyone but myself. A few days is actually all I need for that. Any longer and the ache for my kids will supercede any desire for independence and exploration. A couple of trips home alone to weddings have taught me that. So I’m going to bounce around Dublin, taking in the places you’ve suggested here, Conan and Sniffly and fmc, and the ones people have told me about in emails, and see some of the places Eolai has photographed with such affection.
I’m going to be in the most excellent company and can’t believe I’m getting to meet all these amazing bloggers I admire and consider friends. It is great to hear Bock’s and Sneezy’s negative opinions about the place as well as the positive ones – it’s all part of the big stramash, isn’t it? I flippen love it all.
Mucho thanks to those who recommended books and stories. Much of this trip for me is in the anticipation and reading as much as i can about it is more about getting all sorts of perspectives, rather than making up my mind ahead of time about what Dublin’s like.
And thanks to the non-Irishers who’ve commented too. I shall do my best to recount what I experienced when I get back. One thing’s for sure, my purse will be a whole lot lighter. I’ve been looking and Dublin prices are scary. Couple that with the weak dollar and it’s just as well I only have a few days.
God, though, most of all, it’s you people I want to meet. I’m so damned curious about y’all. Supposing I hate every cobblestone in Dublin, it is going to be brilliant just to finally meet yous all.
February 6th, 2008 at 8:06 pm
Just dont have your camera hanging around your neck. It will be robbed and you will be garrotted in the process. And whatever you do, stay away from anywhere north of the spire on O’Connell St.
Enjoy good ‘ole Ireland.
February 6th, 2008 at 11:40 pm
North of the spire on O’Connell Street – gotcha. Definitely worth knowing Ta much for the tip, Bald Devil. Thanks for visiting.
February 7th, 2008 at 7:21 am
I read this — and all the comments — rather breathlessly, as I am on my way to my dull job and live in fear of missing the bus.
Like you, I had heard that Joyce was important and so read Ulysses. I can’t for the life of me remember much about it other than that I was utterly confused. I also read Portrait of the Writer as a Young Man (oh please tell me that is Joyce — it is, isn’t it?) and remember enjoying that, but I suspect I’d get more out of it if I read it now. Just thinking about Faulkner makes me want to yawn — am I allowed to say that as an American? I hate baseball too, while I’m at it.
Sadly, all I know about Dublin is Sweet Molly Malone. Though I have heard that ‘Emerald Isle’ is to Ireland what ‘Frisco’ is to San Francisco — say it once and you’ll set everyone’s teeth on edge for a two weeks straight. Too bad — ‘Emerald Isle’ sounds so nice…
Have fun in Ireland, Sam. You will have such an interesting time!
February 7th, 2008 at 2:21 pm
I’ll meet you, anywhere north of the spire on O’Connell St.
February 7th, 2008 at 3:59 pm
You MUST go North of the Spire! Otherwise you’ll miss half the stuff mentioned on here (I think Bald Devil was being tongue-in-cheeky).
Whatever anyone tells you about Dublin, Sam, what you won’t be able to discern from your visit is how much the place has changed over the past decade. Some of the novels recommended here will give you an idea of what the place used to be like, I guess, but the most striking feature of the city today is the number of bloody cranes everywhere. Cranes and Mercedes-Benzes.
Fortunately, Dublin remains a very walkable city, and if it rains (and there’s really no “if” about it) you’ll discover the actual reason why there are so many pubs in Dublin.
Btw, Toner’s and Davy Byrnes are must-visits for literary travellers. The Ginger Man, right next to the Alexander, has been done up recently and is a bit too flash for my tastes. Kennedy’s over the other side of Westland Row, is better for the craic.
Hope to see you there! Or thereabouts.
February 7th, 2008 at 7:31 pm
soddit, if you’re going, I’ll go too.
I wonder if I can get Ayres to go?
February 7th, 2008 at 8:40 pm
Mary, thanks. I’m into the Dubliners now, and although that wasn’t the one I had trouble with in my teens, I am getting a lot more out now than back then. I’m really, really enjoying it – I’ll let you know how it and Ulysses goes.
Eolai, bring Dog-dog and I’ll risk it.
Docs? really? Oooh, this trip is getting better and better!
February 7th, 2008 at 11:49 pm
An American with a passport! Oh, my giddy aunt.
February 7th, 2008 at 11:59 pm
Foots! Howya doing? Not an American though, not yet. I’m in the process which their hot-line assures me should not take more than 455 days. That is not a joke. As a newly minted Merkin though, the first thing I shall do after voting in whichever election I can finally – school board, county sheriff, whatever – will be to apply for a passport so I don’t have to go through the long line at the airport any more. Hope all’s well at Chez Eater – hold up, I’ll be right over to see what news.
February 8th, 2008 at 2:45 am
Prenderghast, sorry! Your comment got lost in my moderation list there. Thanks for stopping by and the advice. I was looking at a map of Dublin last night and I saw that Parnell Street and memorial are up at the top of O’Connell street and that a good deal of Dublin’s history is north of the spire. I’m glad Dublin can be easily walked. I miss walkable cities out here in Cali. I’m hoping it will rain, I miss that too. I miss vibrant cities and all the jumble. I lived in Minnesota when I first came out to the states and that most categorically was not vibrant – not in the European sense anyway. East coast cities and San Francisco are, but by and large, US cities are designed for cars not legs and everything is too spread out to have the kind of vibrancy I love.
February 8th, 2008 at 7:59 am
No worries.
Also, avoid Temple Bar. There aren’t as many stag and hen parties as there used to be but it’s still Moron Central. A couple of nice pubs in there but ruined by a clientele whose sole purpose is to get as hammered as possible.
February 8th, 2008 at 8:09 am
I liked Dublin it was bright and busy and because I’m hard I felt safe. There was a stabbing on Grafton Street that I just missed and they paint ‘look right or look left’ on the roads so you don’t get knocked doon by the crazy bastards that drive there. Have fun but keep yer wits about you and remember the Irish are filthy, goddless cannibals unless they give me and Irish blog award.
Don’t forget the Vikings also bred with the bogtrotters.
February 8th, 2008 at 12:47 pm
Some other spots to visit – the Botanic Gardens. The Chester Beatty Library, the Natural History Museum (an un-messed with jewel of Victoriana). National Gallery (Jack B Yeats pics). A trip on the DART to Howth or Killiney.
ps Not sure which particular mists the Drummcestors emerged from… it was late C14th, I think. Perhaps Uist/Barra.
February 8th, 2008 at 7:36 pm
Prenderghast, I just discovered the other day that Temple Bar is owned by a company.
Knuds, don’t worry, I’m hard as nails and I will stab anyone who as much as smiles at me.
Conan, have you any MacNeils in your family? MacNeil = Barra. Uist are Clan Ranald. Thanks for the tips, bud’. How far out of the city does the DART go?
February 11th, 2008 at 6:12 am
Oy, I like Bocks attitude, ya’ know
dublin is like anyways, I’m there sayin’
a bunch of Britneys down my Gregory
I’m like….you know
if Munster is playing, then
I’m off you know like…
I’m just saying…..
My bird is……
February 11th, 2008 at 11:52 am
Sam, DART goes as far as Greystones to the South and I’m not sure how far to the North… beyond Malahide methinks. Google Earth will let you know, or http://www.iarnrodeireaann.ie / http://www.irishrail.ie
Sounds like Uist, if one follows the twigs and branches back far enough.